Kashiwagi closed the distance to a hundred meters.
He confirmed that the person was indeed that unlucky bastard Otsuka, rather than some villain setting a trap.
"Not many people would be running around in this heat instead of hiding in the shade," he muttered.
He recalled the radar scan from earlier. There hadn't been a single red dot in this sector, including his own position. Most participants were clustered far to the west, as if they were intentionally avoiding this area.
They're really playing it safe.
A hothead like Ken was a rarity. Just how much money had he been paid to be that dedicated to the job?
Kashiwagi didn't buy for a second that Ken had tracked him across the desert just to keep a promise about breaking his legs. Men like that didn't move unless there was "meat" on the bone; there had to be a reward he couldn't refuse.
"Otsuka!" Kashiwagi shouted, hoping for a response.
None came.
The guy was likely unconscious. Kashiwagi signaled Lairon to speed up, using the Pokémon to scout for any potential traps. In this world, nothing was absolute; it paid to be cautious.
A minute later.
After his brief bout of "battling wits with thin air," Kashiwagi reached Otsuka's side. He quickly checked the man's breathing and pulse, then took the bandana he'd looted earlier, soaked it with water, and wiped the blood and grime from Otsuka's face—focusing on his nose and mouth so he could breathe.
Next, he took a small pill from his pocket and washed it down Otsuka's throat with some water. The pill was a life-saver—it didn't have many fancy effects, but it could stabilize critical injuries long enough for a proper rescue. It was pricey, but a small price to pay for a life. It seemed the investment was paying off.
After the initial first aid, Kashiwagi inspected the rest of Otsuka's injuries. "Wrecked" didn't even cover it. Even with Orre's medical standards, this guy would be bedridden for months.
"At least he's not dead," he sighed in relief.
Before long, a faint groan escaped Otsuka's lips. His tightly shut eyelids twitched.
"Ugh..."
"You awake? Give me a sign."
"Am I... am I dead? Why am I dreaming about you...?" Otsuka's voice was incredibly hoarse. His eyes slowly fluttered open, focusing on Kashiwagi sitting beside him. He pulled at the corners of his mouth, forming a gruesome, painful-looking expression.
Kashiwagi's face remained stoic as he waved two fingers in front of the man. "A little longer and you would be dead. How many fingers?"
"I... looks like two..."
"Brain's still intact. Congratulations."
Otsuka was in no condition to appreciate the dry humor. He shifted his gaze to the brilliant blue sky and murmured, "...I'm really alive... sob..."
Suppressed sobs choked out of his throat, and tears quickly welled up. The sheer relief of surviving made him tremble so hard he could barely breathe. He began to cough, then gag, crying and laughing all at once in a pathetic, messy display.
But he didn't care. As long as he was breathing, he was happy.
"By the way, the guy's dead. If you wanted to stab him back, it's probably not happening in your current state," Kashiwagi said casually. "Can you move your arm? If not, I'll help you trigger the rescue signal."
The bracelets were monitored, but for the rescue to be valid, the wearer had to trigger it themselves. It was an annoying bureaucratic hurdle.
Otsuka was clearly more focused on the first part of the sentence. "You... you killed Ken?"
"To be precise, the sun baked him to death. I just left him heavily wounded," Kashiwagi smiled, trying to cheer him up. "Stabbing him would've been too merciful."
"Hahaha... you're savage."
Otsuka managed a weak, jagged smile and tried to lift his arm to tap the bracelet. However, other than making himself hiss in pain, it was useless. He had to let Kashiwagi assist him.
Beep.
The rescue call was successful. Both men breathed a sigh of relief, and the atmosphere grew a bit lighter, despite the oppressive heat.
Taking the opportunity, Kashiwagi asked, "By the way, why didn't you give up my location? You could've just made something up. I didn't take you for the 'silent martyr' type."
From their first meeting, Kashiwagi had noted that Otsuka was quick to fold and apologize. He was the textbook definition of "bullying the weak and fearing the strong." Hearing Ken say that he wouldn't talk no matter what had genuinely surprised Kashiwagi.
"Why...?"
Otsuka stared blankly at the sky. "Actually... I don't know either..."
"You don't know?"
"Heh, maybe my brain just snapped. Or maybe I figured that whether I talked or not, they weren't gonna let me go anyway... hehehe." Otsuka laughed to himself, though there was nothing funny about it.
But deep down, he did have an answer.
Why didn't he give Kashiwagi up, even if it meant a lie? The reason was simple: the pathetic, meager remains of his self-respect.
When he was on the brink of death, memories had flooded his mind—from his birth to learning to speak, getting his first Pokémon, and eventually supporting his entire family. He realized his life had been so hollow. He had given up so much for so little. He had so many regrets, so many things he wanted to do but never dared to try.
Strip away the Pokémon and the external stuff, and he was empty. He had no pursuits of his own; he lived merely to survive. His entire life had been a series of suppressions.
"Your world and mine are both too small. I hope that one day, we can break through the shackles of Pyrite Town, open our eyes, and see the real world."
The real world. What was the real world? Did a "nothing" like him even have the right to see it?
In that moment, he had clung to those words like a drowning man to a straw. He grasped that final bit of dignity. He knew he might never see the "real world" Kashiwagi spoke of, but he really, really didn't want to die so pathetically.
"Hey, Kashiwagi... will you leave Pyrite Town?" He struggled to turn his head toward the figure that felt so close yet so blurry.
"One day," the figure replied.
"Then..."
Can you take me with you?
Otsuka found himself suddenly mute. He couldn't get the words out. His subconscious told him he wasn't worthy. The scum of the gutter belongs in the gutter forever.
Right then, the blurry figure leaned in. To Otsuka, it felt like a shift in focus—the haze vanished, and Kashiwagi became clear, as if a thin, illusory film had been punctured.
Kashiwagi pulled at his eyelid and forced him to stick out his tongue, performing the motions of a doctor. "What's with the silence? Want water?"
"No..."
"What were you gonna say? 'Take me with you'?"
"Uh..."
"You want a travel buddy? Personally, I'm not a big fan of teams. Let's pass on that," Kashiwagi waved him off with a look of mock disgust. "Besides, I recommend you go out on your own."
The matter-of-fact tone left Otsuka stunned. "On my own?"
"Duh. Or take your sister, your parents, whatever. Take the whole family on a tour."
Travel buddy. Family vacation.
These alien concepts made Otsuka's head spin. In Kashiwagi's tone, leaving Pyrite Town—or even the Orre region—sounded like the simplest, most common thing in the world.
He murmured to himself, "Go on my own..."
"Yeah. While you're still young, get out of Pyrite. See what other places are like. Don't spend your whole life staring at this tiny patch of dirt." Kashiwagi added with a hint of sentiment, "This world is way more spectacular than you think."
Otsuka: "..."
A silence fell between them. A moment later, Otsuka suddenly asked, "Should I... go back to school?"
"Don't talk nonsense." Kashiwagi snapped back. "If you can't read, you won't even understand a map! How the hell are you gonna travel then?"